


The aftermath of a kidnapping

by AlexTheAlex97



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse of italics, Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Boyfriends, Dove - OC, Dream is still a faceless streamer, Dream isn't the bad guy I promise, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Like very abuse of italics, M/M, Modern AU, Nightmares, Poor Gogy is hurt, Sexual Violence, Violence, as in one chapter is just italics, minimal smut, pretty much no smut lets be honest here, teacher!george
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 20:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30078189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexTheAlex97/pseuds/AlexTheAlex97
Summary: So this is an AU where George isn't a streamer, but Dream still is. As per canon, Dream hasn't done a face reveal yet. George is/was a teacher before he gets kidnapped by Dove (Original Character) who then proceeds to do unspeakable things to him. This fic goes over the aftermath of that, and how Dream reacts when someone he loves gets hurt. Major Trigger warning for R*pe/non-con & Violence, and also self-harm as it's referenced throughout the fic.I should also mention that in this I've made Dream Cuban because idk I wanted to. For reference, 'Te amo' & 'Mi Amor' both mean I love you.I hope you enjoy reading this tiny fic, now go forth and read!
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will have a switching perspective :) I also plan on writing another few chapters at some point as well.

**DREAM**

If he wasn’t affectionate before he is now; he’s barely left my side since we got here. Still trying to make sure I’m real I guess, and I'm not complaining. We’ve never been crazy affectionate, but it's nice to know he needs me as much as I need him. He won't leave me, and I know it's the separation, but I think maybe other stuff happened there as well. Other stuff that traumatized him. He seems to be alert, but it's anyone's guess how medicated he actually is. He jumps at everything. It's like he's been taken back two years to when we first met, I can't so much as raise a hand without him cowering in fear. He wants to be near me all the time but avoids any topic that makes him feel trapped. If I so much as mention Dove he curls up into a ball. 

What happened to him? 

What did Dove do? 

I get Sapnap to run some scans, with George’s permission of course, and I find that the cocktail of drugs in his system are lucky not to have killed him. My blood is slowly starting to boil but I don't get up yet, and instead wait until George is sleeping soundly so I don’t worry him. Putting on my jeans and jacket, I hope this is the last time I need to use my knife on someone I used to know. 

One cut. Pressed against his shoulder. Listen to the cry of pain. 

_You Bastard_

Two cuts. Against his back. Drawing out the fear. 

_You hurt him._

Three cuts. A blade pressed to his neck, a promise of what's to come. 

_You hurt him. You asshole, you HURT him!_

On cut four I stop and walk away. 

"So that's it? You're just gonna walk away and pretend you didn’t come to kill me?" 

_Die. You son of a bitch, die._

“It’s over.”

I throw my blade in the sink with a bottle of bleach. No point letting George see me like this, so I take a shower, wash off the blood, and then put on the washing. George questions me when he wakes. Asks why I seem quiet. And deep down he knows. Deep down he knows something happened. 

I lost control. For a perfect second, I lost control. And it was bliss. Shoving my blade into his abdomen, feeling the shudder and then the warmth of his blood as it seeps into my once-white shirt. Why did I wear white? Black Jacket, white shirt, it was supposed to be smart. 

I jump when he creeps in. 

“So, where’d you go, and why does it involve a bloody knife?”

Shit. Shit.

“I’m an assassin. I bloody things.”

“Dream, what did you do?”

I won’t lie.

“Nothing. But Dove won’t be hurting anyone else any time soon, or ever.”

At ‘Dove’ he recoils

“Shh, shh, you’re safe”

“I know, I know, but this is my fault. You killed him and it’s all because of me”

“George, I’m going to explain something, and you might hate me after, but you need to know”

“Go on…”

I walk him back into the bedroom and we sit face to face with crossed legs.

“Dove isn’t dead. Not when I left him, he wasn’t. But he will. There’s no doubt about that, but it’s not your fault. My Sapnap scanned him and he’s on one of our lists. He’s trafficking people. We’ve had him on our list for a while now, but we had no leads on how to find him, so in a way, you helped our case. I didn’t kill him, I promise. You don’t have blood on your hands.”

“Hmm”

“Gogy, you know I wouldn’t lie. I’ve told you much worse”

“You have indeed.”

“George? What’s wrong?”

“Hmm? Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Are you mad?”

“No”

“Babe you gotta tell me what’s going on, you aren’t giving me anything to go by and I’m a tad worried.”

He looks me dead in the eyes and then speaks with a voice sounding like steel. “Dove hurt us, in turn.”

“Oh baby, no”

“You wanted to know, didn’t you? He made us submit. He wouldn’t do anything for my arms, so now the scars are worse, my thighs have dagger-like marks in them, and every time I close my eyes I see dove on top of me. He didn’t feed us; he didn’t fucking feed us. We would get food weekly, but it was never enough for more than two or three days. We all got our own rooms, thank god, but we never got to leave, not to shower, not to piss. We were stuck there all day every day unless Dove wanted us.

His face shows no emotion, no pain. 

Mine, on the other hand, is wrecked. 

“George, baby…”

“Enough. Enough trying to comfort me. It’s like I was born to be a slave, something you just fuck and then throw away only to have someone new pick you up the next time they need something.”

There’s a momentary pause before he continues, more passionate than before.

“Is that what I am to you Dream? Are you going to get sick of me one day and then throw me out? Are you gonna finally screw me over and throw me out, nay, kill me? Is that it? So stop. Let me sleep in my room and don’t wake me in the morning, being asleep is better than your damn pity-”

“George, go to bed.”

“Fuck you.”

“No. Te amo, bed.”

Getting up and walking out of the room is among the hardest things I've ever done but walking in the next morning is by far the scariest. 

Fortunately, he’s asleep in one of my hoodies, curled up on the bed with two of my cats. 

I leave him there to sleep. His favorite thing to eat is pizza. I mean I love it too, but ever since the first time he tried it he loved it. Wanted it all the time. So, I make pizza for lunch. He won’t wake up for a few hours, normally I have to rouse him, or he sleeps forever, even on workdays. I’ve just sat down to play video games when I feel his arms wrap around me.

“Morning Clay, I’m really sorry about last night. It was uncalled for; I didn’t mean it-”

I shut him up with a kiss. 

“That’s cheating” He huffs, but it’s an amused huff. 

“You know I know you didn’t mean it”

“But I still gotta apologize” He moves from behind me, pauses my game, and then sits on my lap, taking the controller off me and playing himself.

“Funny way to apologize”

“Would you rather I left?” He asks with a small smile.

“On the contrary” He puts down the controller and turns around on my lap. 

“I’ve missed you”

“And I’ve missed you too, mi amor”

He hums softly into my shoulder. The drugs in his system are still making him drowsy and clingy, so for now I let him nap with my shoulder as the pillow, my arms rubbing slow circles on his back. I’m becoming soft. 

Then, as if life couldn’t get more interesting, Karl calls. Stream tonight. Great. Just what I need, another chore when I need to be here for George. 

“George.”

“Mm?”

“I have to stream tonight.” 

The look of disappointment is enough to make me want to quit, but instead, I come up with an idea.

“I’ll take you with me, I never have my cam on anyway, you could sit with me the entire time and nobody would know.”

“Can you do that?”

“We’re going to find out”

“Clay, you can’t do that, I’ll be fine”

“I’m not leaving you alone, not after all you’ve been through recently, I’ll either skip the stream or you can stay, it’s not fair to leave you by yourself.”

He decides to sit with me and we stream for a few hours before saying goodbye to the others and logging off for the night.


	2. Coming home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter, this one is from our precious Gogy's perspective.

**GEORGE**

I’m so exhausted by the time we log off that I barely get to feel Dream’s arms around me before I pass out.

_It’s light. Blindingly bright. It hurts to open his eyes but hurts to have them closed. The man is back, watching now, waiting. BANG! He turns toward the sound but it’s impossible to see anything in the blinding fog that is white. Only light, only color. And it hurts. BANG! A second gunshot sounds, closer than before. He feels it creep up to him, like an assassin intent on killing him. “Is this better or worse? You wanted light. Make your choice.” The voice in his head leaves and leaves a chill that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. BANG! It’s next to him now, ringing through his ears, making his blood rush and fear bubble up inside him, threatening to overflow without warning at any point. He tries to make it go. He knows it isn’t real, that he shouldn't believe it, but something inside tells him that maybe it is. "Isn't this what you asked of me? For light?"_

Maybe it is, but not like this. Not for pain. 

_"I made you, we made each other. You are everything I am, and only you have the power to keep me here. You wanted light so I give you light" BANG!_

Not for the silence that follows. 

_It's quiet. Everything calms. The rushing of colors moving around him, the voices, the shots. Silence. Almost. "You're almost there, I know you can do this." Screaming replaces the gunshots. Why him? Why is he the one that has to suffer?_

You wouldn't wish this on anyone. 

_BANG!_

And it's over. He's awake. 

"Babe, wake up" 

Who is it? It's foggy in his head. 

"George, it's me" 

Who?

Dream. 

"Dream" 

“George”

“Is everything alright?”

“You were tossing and calling out”

“Clay, it’s been two years, and still I get these dreams. They weren't frightening initially, sometimes they were even comforting, but they get more and more sinister”

“I wish I could help.”

“You do, when I wake up you’re always there.”

“I mean to stop them altogether.”

“Mm”

“Do you wanna get up or stay in bed, it’s 8 am.”

“I should go into work”

“Not for a few weeks, you’ve been through a ton and you need to rest for a bit, the children have enough work to last them the rest of the year.”

“Don’t tell me you worked them as hard as I do.”

“Harder. After all, they seem to respond to your way of teaching, everyday they would ask if you were okay. It was really sweet”


	3. Childhood Tramua

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, this chapter is From George's perspective. I kept it separate from chapter 2 as it explores George's nightmare further without much mention of Dream

****

GEORGE

****

**  
******  


_The darkness visits him one more time._

****

_I’m here._

****

_Can you see me?_

****

_I’m coming._

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_I’m getting closer._

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_Closer._

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_Can you feel me yet?_

****

_He looks on with childlike curiosity, no idea of the danger that lurks just out of his reach._

****

_The voice is friendly. Welcoming him with sinister words and a honey-sweet voice, beckoning him closer and closer to the edge._

****

_He sees the child fall, but the thump doesn’t come. He keeps falling, further and further away._

****

_I can’t get him back now. The child is gone._

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_I can’t get him back._

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_I let him fall._

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_It’s my fault_

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_It’s my fault they’re gone._

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_Flames._

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_Fire._

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_There is a fire._

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_Not again, I can’t let them die._

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_“But you did”_

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_I didn’t!_

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_“You Did. You Let Them Die.”_

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_I didn’t want them to die!_

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_“Too late now Antonio”_

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_Mama?_

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_“You let everyone die”_

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_He runs toward the edge and jumps._

****

_It’s like a cage, his own personal hell, trapped in a hurricane of his own destructive thoughts._

****

_He knows it isn’t real, he knows he should just give up, give in, but something inside him spurs him on._

****

_Mama wouldn’t have wanted this._

****

_But Mama isn’t here. Mama died, a long time ago. Now it’s just him. Alone, with non-existent demons, intent on destroying him from the inside out._

****

_“Do you really think you can stop me?”_

****

_No. But there was never any harm in trying._

****

_“You’ve been alone for so long; don’t you want someone to talk to?”_

****

_Leave me alone_

****

_“Make me leave, after all, you’re the only thing keeping me here”_

****

_There is no escape, no back door. No past, but no future. He sees the boy who fell slowly dissipate into nothing, back to where he started, except there is no second chance here. Death is permanent._

****

_“Do you give up yet?”_

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_The darkness taunts him relentlessly, tearing apart at him. Was this what the man felt like, having his memories torn from him? Did it hurt this much?_

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_“You know you want to”_

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_The darkness isn’t wrong.  
_

****


End file.
